


I Like Watching You Do That

by alanna_the_lionheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bodily Fluids, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fetish, Graphic Description, One Shot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Romance, Season/Series 04, Sex, Shameless Smut, Short One Shot, Smut, Sweat, Table Sex, friendly warning, olicity - Freeform, raunchy, salmon ladder, this gets pretty descriptive, with a tiny bit of, working out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-27 23:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5069752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place somewhere after 4x04. Oliver knows that Felicity likes watching him work out – A LOT. When he designed the new lair, he put the salmon ladder in direct view of Felicity’s workstation with the express purpose of distracting her from work. Alone in the lair late one night, Oliver’s working out on the salmon ladder when Felicity arrives to take him home. He decides to tease her, and his teasing quickly turns into something way more fun. Very NSFW, PWP. Contains Oliver showing off on the salmon ladder, Felicity getting turned on watching Oliver sweat, and sex on the conference table in the new lair. Don’t look too hard for a plot, because there isn’t any. This is smutty smut for the sake of smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like Watching You Do That

**Author's Note:**

> I have NO IDEA where this came from, or how it managed to get so DIRTY. I’ve only written a few smut pieces before, and all of them had some form of plot attached to them. This is my very first heterosexual smut fic, and as such, my first Olicity smut fic. I think it came out pretty good, but I am a bit nervous about posting it since it's my first pure smut fic.

It’s a slow night…for once. With no bad guys to stop and no Ghosts to chase, the team retires early, leaving Oliver to work off his nervous energy alone while Felicity stays late at work.

 

He warms up with stretches first, then works his way to punching the dummies. When he’s done, he stands in the training area of the lair and stares at the salmon ladder. He rubs a towel over his sweat soaked body and finds himself wishing that Felicity were here.

 

A sense of loneliness washes over him, and it’s a fairly new feeling for him. While he’s experienced loneliness in the past, he’s always been able to ignore it; to push it aside by burying himself in training and beating up bad guys. Then he let Felicity in, and everything changed. During their five months together, he never felt lonely, because she was always with him. But since they returned to Star City – since Felicity became CEO of Palmer Tech and he started his campaign for mayor – he’s found himself away from her more often than he’d like, and he’s found that, for the first time in years, he remembers what it’s like to feel lonely.

 

Oliver stares at the salmon ladder and shakes his head, willing the feeling away. Felicity promised to pick him up before she went home. He just needs to distract himself until she comes for him.

 

Oliver works out on the salmon ladder for a bit, then goes back to the dummies, his mind drifting to thoughts of the glorious summer he spent with her.

 

Two weeks into their trip around the world, Oliver had realized that between his new lifestyle and the delicious, exotic food he was eating, he was starting to gain weight. Felicity had looked at him like he was crazy when he’d voiced his concern in front of the mirror one morning, and she’d rubbed her hands lovingly along his stomach.

 

“You look amazing,” she’d assured him.

 

And yet feelings of laziness had started to creep in, and one day while she was away visiting one of Japan’s weirder museums, he’d started exercising again. She’d come back to their hotel just in time to watch him finish a set of pushups, and he’d discovered something interesting about her that day.

 

Felicity _loved_ watching him workout.

 

She loved to watch his muscles flex, listen to him pant from exertion, and watch him sweat. Since that day she’d found him doing pushups she’d never been shy about how turned on she got when he exercised; never been shy about how much she loved touching him when he was all sweaty. The fact that she got turned on watching him exercise had surprised him at first, and her openness about it had shocked him even more. But when she threw herself at him that day, he’d realized he should’ve seen it coming.

 

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to watch you exercising for all those years and not be able to do anything about it?” she’d asked him breathlessly, rubbing her hands over his chest and down his abs, sucking one of his nipples into her mouth and causing him to groan.

 

“Felicity….”

 

She’d smiled up at him before burying her face in his neck and inhaling his scent, and he’d shuddered at how hot it was that the woman he loved had a fetish for hot, sweaty him.

 

She’d ridden him hard and fast that day.

 

Thinking about it now as he exercises alone in the new lair makes Oliver groan in frustration. What’s taking her so long?

 

He heads back to the salmon ladder, trying to will his mind to stop thinking about her. Twenty seconds into his exercise, it becomes impossible.

 

“I’m here,” she sings happily, walking toward him with her jacket and purse slung over her arm. She’s dressed in a simple blouse and a short, tight skirt. _Too short, too tight,_ Oliver thinks to himself. Does she own ANY skirts that don’t make her look hot as hell?

 

No. Of course not. It’s Felicity. She’d look attractive in anything. Or nothing. _Especially_ nothing. Damn her.

 

Oliver hangs from the rung of the ladder, watching her walk toward him, and he notices her sharp intake of breath as she stops at the foot of the stairs leading up to the ladder and just stares at him.

 

When he’d designed this place, he’d done everything on purpose. He’d put Felicity’s computer workstation in the exact middle. It’s where she belongs: in the center of his world, watching over everything.

 

He’d also put the salmon ladder at the edge of the training area on purpose, situating it so that it faced her workstation, for the explicit purpose of distracting her from work.

 

Oliver works his way up another rung and watches for her reaction. She puts her purse and jacket down on the floor and steps back against the railing around her workstation, staring at him shamelessly. He works his way up the ladder, eyes constantly drifting back to her, and her mouth is gaping open now as she watches him, muscles flexing and sweat dripping down his body. Oliver groans internally at the thought of how turned on she must be.

 

He hangs from the bar for a few seconds, displaying his body to her hungry gaze: his toned arms and strong shoulders, his thick chest and his muscular abs. He’s teasing her, and they both know it, but he just can’t help himself. She leans back against the railing, clenching her legs tightly together with a slight gasp. The sight of her skirt tightly hugging her strong, beautiful thighs makes him grin, and he swings the bar up another rung, panting from exertion.

 

He does a series of pull-ups, teasing her mercilessly, and between the exercise and the sight of her staring at him he’s sweating profusely now. He clangs up another rung and does more pull-ups. When he looks back at her he finds that one of her hands has made its way up her skirt, and she gasps as she starts to work herself.

 

It’s not the first time she’s touched herself while watching him exercise, and the sight sends a thrill through him now. Oliver feels his cock twitch in his pants, and as much as he loves watching her touch herself, he’s filled with the overwhelming need to be the one touching her right now.

 

He drops down from the ladder, hitting the floor with a grunt, and Felicity gasps, pulling her hand from out of her skirt.

 

“Oliver,” she chastises as he walks closer to her, breathing heavily. “You did that on purpose.”

 

“Of course I did,” he answers, voice deep with desire. “I know how much you like watching me do that.”

 

Felicity stares at him, her tongue peeking out to wet her lips as she looks at him unabashedly, eyes following the beads of sweat dripping down his chest. Oliver smirks. Knowing how much of an effect he can have on her turns him on as much as it does her.

 

He stops in front of her, chest still heaving from the exercise, and her eyes travel down his body in appraisal. When she finally finds words again, she only manages to find one.

 

_“Sweaty,”_ she whimpers, and Oliver chuckles.

 

And then, without warning, she grabs his shoulders and crushes her lips to his. He groans against her mouth, taking her lower lip between his teeth and sucking on it. She whimpers, and his cock swells against the zipper of his pants.

  
Felicity pulls away with a gasp and bends down to suck one of his nipples into her mouth, and Oliver groans, stroking a hand gently against the back of her head. She lets his nipple go with a wet pop as she licks her way across his pec. She takes her time tasting him, and the feel of her lips and tongue on his sweaty body drives him crazy. She licks her way down the center of his chest and between his abdominal muscles. He shivers, her breath against his sweaty skin making him break out in goose bumps. She sucks on his pelvis, right at the edge of his pants, and he knows she can feel his cock twitching against her chin when she smiles against his skin. She places a kiss against him and stands up again, grinning at him mischievously, eyes dark with desire, and he can’t take it anymore.

 

He reaches down and palms her ass in both hands, picking her up off the floor, and she wraps her legs around his hips and her arms around his back and holds on tight. She buries her face in his neck and sucks on his skin, licking the sweat off of him, and he groans, burying his face against the side of her head as he carefully carries her down the two steps and over to the conference table, thanking god that everyone went home an hour ago.

 

He’s so distracted by the feel of her lips sucking on his neck that he’s unaware he’s reached the table until his knees slam into it, and he deposits her on top of, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to pull away. Her teeth scrape against his neck in protest, and he gasps, knowing for a fact that that’s going to leave a mark. He gazes down at her, and she looks up at him innocently, as if to ask “did I do that?” The sight of her playing innocent drives him _insane_ and she damn well knows it.

 

“ _My turn_ ,” he growls, and without preamble he grabs her hips, picks her up, and sets her feet on the ground. She’s had her way with him; now it’s his turn to do the same.

 

She looks up at him, eyes wide with anticipation, and she already knows what he’s going to do. If sweaty Oliver is her thing, then eating her out is _his_ thing.

 

She spreads her legs without having to be asked, and her eagerness is such a turn on he has to bite back a groan of satisfaction. He grabs the bottom of her skirt and shoves it up her body, hands caressing and squeezing her gorgeous thighs as he goes. He pushes the skirt up and over her full ass, kneading her cheeks in his hands, and she lets out a moan of approval.

 

Then he grabs the hem of her panties and pulls them down her body, feeling her strong leg muscles clench with anticipation under his hands. He bends down at her feet, and she helpfully steps out of her underwear. Oliver stands back up, and she bends over to untie her heels, but he grabs her hand and stops her.

 

“Leave them,” he tells her, and she gasps in surprise before nodding.

 

Oliver’s still holding her panties, and he rubs his hands over them, feeling how wet they are, and he groans as he lifts them to his face and sniffs them, knowing full well how crazy that makes her. Her breathy moan of his name is his reward, and it sends a shiver down his spine as he shoves her panties into his back pocket and closes the distance between them.

 

“Lie down,” he whispers, and she doesn’t need to be asked twice. She hikes her skirt higher up her waist and sits on the edge of the table, spreading her legs wide for his hungry gaze. Oliver stares at her with an appreciative groan, and as she lies back on the table he gets to his knees in front of her.

 

He grips her thighs, spreading her wider, and she shivers as the cold air hits her hot center, her nether lips trembling at the thought of what’s to come. Oliver groans out her name, leans in close, and licks a quick stripe along her outer lips.

 

She trembles against his tongue, and he leans in closer, burying his face in her, his tongue darting out to tease her lips open. Her legs tense, and Oliver grips her thighs and pulls them open again, throwing her legs over his shoulders. He scoots in closer, lapping at her juices like he’s dying of thirst, and the wet, sucking sounds he’s making are obscene but he couldn’t care less. Her legs tremble around him and he sucks on her outer lips, nipping at them gently as he teases his tongue in between them.

 

He lets go of her legs and uses his fingers to gently pry her lips apart, and he’s greeted with the sight of her clit swollen and ready, her inner lips flushed red with arousal. His cock swells even more, his zipper digging painfully into his erection, but he doesn’t care; he’s too entranced by the sight of her.

 

_“Oliver._ ”

 

She whimpers his name, and he smiles against her as his tongue darts out to flick over her clit. She screams, the direct contact overwhelming, and fresh arousal seeps from inside her. Oliver laps at it, drinking her in, fingers teasing lightly at her entrance. She’s panting above him now, thighs clenched tightly around his head. He licks along her inner lips, dipping his tongue inside her. Her muscles clench around his tongue, and the sensation makes him groan, the vibration shooting through her and causing her inner muscles to clench even tighter.

 

She reaches down and pulls on his hair, and Oliver buries his face even farther into her, reveling in the feel of her coming undone against him. Her juices are coating his face now, and he takes his tongue out of her, breathing heavily against her, and without warning he puts his lips over her clit and sucks on it, hard.

 

She screams, her back bowing off the table, and her grip on his hair tightens. She’s so close, he can feel it, and he desperately wants to send her over the edge; wants to feel her strong thighs quaking around his head as she comes hard against his face.

 

But then she starts gasping for air, and she pulls his head back just the slightest.

 

“Oliver…wait. Stop.”

 

He stops instantly, but he doesn’t move his face from her. Instead, he takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent that’s pure Felicity, and he kisses her nether lips gently, flicking his tongue over her for once last taste before pulling away. He knows what she wants without her even having to ask.

 

She wants him inside of her.

 

Oliver gets to his feet, breathing heavily, and she sits up on the edge of the table. Her skirt is hiked up around her waist, her legs splayed wide open. He can see every glorious inch of her spread out before him, flushed deep red and soaking wet, and fuck if it’s not the most obscene thing he’s ever seen. He can feel her arousal coating his chin, his lips, and even the tip of his nose. He reaches up and brushes two fingers over his face, collecting her juices. He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, unable to stop the groan that escapes him as her taste explodes on his tongue. She whimpers, and he can actually see her vaginal walls clench at the sight. His cock grows impossibly harder in his pants, and he needs to be inside her right the fuck now.

 

She reaches out and grabs his hips, pulling him closer. He rubs his denim clad hardness against her center, and she shudders, her arousal soaking against his crotch, and between the two of them these pants will be in serious need of a wash.

 

“Oliver…I need you. _Please.”_

She whimpers the last word, and Oliver doesn’t have to be asked twice. He’s painfully hard, cock swollen against the zipper of his pants.

 

Oliver pulls away just far enough so that he can reach down to his belt, but just as he reaches the buckle her hands brush his aside. He lets her take control, watching her fingers move nimbly. She yanks his belt undone and unbuttons his pants. He has just enough brain power left to mouth the word “slowly,” which is good, because instead of yanking his zipper down like he knows she wants to, she unzips him slowly, allowing his cock to jerk free unharmed.

 

The cool air against his flushed, warm cock makes him shiver, and Felicity’s eyes grow darker at the sight of him, swollen and more than ready for her. She wraps her arms around his back, pushing his pants down his legs and gripping his ass tightly in her hands. He groans, letting her pull him in closer. His cock brushes against her swollen, wet lips and she gasps as he rubs himself against her, spreading her juices between the two of them.

 

“ _Oliver.”_

He moans as he pulls back slightly, and the need to be inside her is so strong his vision blurs around the edges for just a second.

 

Then she’s reaching down between them, wrapping her hand around him. She rubs her thumb against his slit, spreading a mixture of their arousal around and down his cock. She pumps her hand along him once, twice, three times.

 

_“Felicity,”_ he begs, and without hesitation she guides him to her entrance, only letting go once his tip is inside her. He grips her hips in his hands, fingers playing along the curve of her ass, and he pushes into her slowly, savoring every moment. It’s pure torture for both of them, but it’s _blissful_ torture. He keeps pushing slowly, letting her body accommodate to the feel of him. He slides in easily, her body opening up for him, and he only stops once he’s fully sheathed inside her.

 

He doesn’t move at first. He savors the feel of her walls pulsing gently around him, and he knows they aren’t going to last long. She’s too far gone, too wet and too tight, and fuck if this isn’t Oliver’s favorite place to be.

 

He pulls out of her slowly, groaning as her walls clench tightly around him in protest, as though she doesn’t want him to leave. She moans as he continues to pull out, as slowly as he entered, and when only the tip of his cock remains inside of her he rotates his hips, rubbing against her clit, and she curses.   


“Fuck.”

 

Oliver grins. She doesn’t curse a whole lot, and when she does he knows he’s doing something right.

 

He’s just about to push back into her when she reaches down and grabs his ass tightly in both of her hands, and without warning she pulls him closer to her, shoving him back inside her, and they both moan at the sensation.

 

He grips her hips tighter as he pulls back far enough to look down at her. Her pupils are blown wide, eyes dark with desire, and it takes every ounce of strength he has not to let go and pound into her.

 

But then Felicity whimpers, “fuck me,” and Oliver’s done.

 

“Lie back,” he tells her, and as she does so he pulls out of her and slams back in, hard and fast. She groans, back arching off the table.

 

Oliver gasps as he pushes into her again, and she whines as her muscles pulse around him. Oliver groans and shifts in closer, gripping her thighs tightly in his hands, and she shudders, wrapping her legs around his hips. Her feet settle against his lower back, and he feels her heels dig into his ass as he pushes inside her once more with a groan. God, she feels so _good_ : her heels scraping against his ass, her thighs wrapped around his hips, her walls clenched tightly around him, sucking him in.

 

His cock twitches inside her and he moans out her name, pulling out and shoving back into her hard, and she gasps, legs wrapping around him impossibly tighter. He shifts slightly, angling his hips, and his cock hits a spot deep inside her that makes her tremble around him with a whimper.

 

And just like that, whatever hold he still had is gone.

 

He pulls out as far as her quaking thighs will let him and slams back in, and she gasps, her hands scrabbling at the table for purchase. He slams into her again, so hard that he shoves her body up the table, and her hands reach up and grip his biceps, squeezing him tightly. Oliver groans and loses all sense of rhythm as he fucks her into the table, holding her hips in a vice grip. He knows he’s going to leave bruises, but he also knows how much she loves them, and the thought makes him shudder as he slams into her over and over.

 

She holds him as tightly as he holds her, both never wanting to let go. The lair is filled with the sound of their breathing and moaning, the sound of the table scraping against the floor under the force of Oliver’s thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin.

 

They’re both panting now, on the edge, and Oliver stands on the tips of his toes and shoves into her hard, angling his hips just right and slamming his pelvis against her clit.

 

Her walls quake around his cock, pulling on him and making him swell inside her, and the sensation elicits a string of sentence fragments from her. If he finds her usual babbling endearing, it’s nothing compared to how much he loves her babbling when he’s fucking her.

 

“Oh…oh, god. I…ooh! Don’t…aaah, don’t stop. Oh, _ohhh…Oliver._ ”

 

“Fuck,” he curses when she whimpers his name, and he pounds into her harder. He’s close, so close, and he knows she is too because she’s _tight;_ so tight he can barely move. He pulls out as far as her strongly clenched muscles will let him, and he thrusts back in hard, groaning. Her eyes are still closed, they have been all this time, and the need to see her when she comes apart is overwhelming.

 

“Felicity, look at me” he asks her, and her eyes shoot open. She stares at him, eyes dark with desire, lips open and flushed pink. He bends down and kisses her lower lip, sucking it between his teeth, and she whines as he thrusts into her again.

 

He stands up again, gazing down at her in awe. “Come for me,” he begs her. “Come for me, Felicity.”

 

She whimpers, legs clenching around him even tighter. Her back arches, and she throws her head against the table with a shout of his name, eyes never leaving his as she explodes around him, her walls sucking him in deeper, and he groans. She’s so wet he can feel her juices leaking down his thighs, and he looks down, his body trembling at the sight of her arousal coating his legs, the sight of his cock disappearing inside her. He swells impossibly harder at the sight of her taking him in, spread out before him: the quaking of her thighs, the trembling of her walls as she pulses around his cock, her body flushed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She looks so beautiful he could die right now and he wouldn’t regret a thing.

 

Oliver shoves into her once more, twice more.

 

“ _Felicity.”_

He reaches down between them and shoves his fingers between her tight lips, pinching her clit, and she cries out, her back arching higher. Her heels bite painfully into his ass, and her thighs clench around his hips so tightly now that he knows he’s going to wind up with bruises, but it’s all worth it. She pulses around him harder as she comes again; small, intense shocks that have her body sucking him in impossibly deeper. Her juices flow anew, dripping farther down his legs and coating the table.

 

Oliver groans, and the moan of pleasure that escapes her as he pulls out of her, his cock dragging slowly along every inch of her inner walls, nearly sends him to his knees. He slams back into her hard, and he hits a spot deep inside her that makes her scream. She comes for a third time, her body stretched so taut it’s a wonder she doesn’t break, and Oliver loses it. He comes hard, shouting her name as he shoots inside her. She’s quaking beneath him, trembling, whimpering. He can feel her muscles pulsing around him, milking more and more out of him to the point where it almost hurts, and suddenly he’s shuddering.

 

His legs are barely able to hold him up, he’s shaking so hard, and he lets go of her hips and collapses against her. His hands splay out beside her head, and he supports his bulk on his elbows, careful not to put too much weight on her. He buries his face in her neck as he groans, emptying himself inside her, and fuck, he’s still coming. He can feel his cum leaking out of her now, their combined juices pooling between them, and they’re definitely going to need a shower and a change of clothes after this. She wraps her arms around his back, pulling him closer, and he collapses against her with a whimper as they fall apart in each other’s arms.

 

It takes a bit of time for them to come down again.

 

When Oliver finally feels like his body will hold him up he stands, legs trembling slightly as he gazes down at her flushed face, her satisfied smile. Oliver takes his softening cock out of her slowly, and they both groan as he pulls out with a wet pop. She sits up slowly, their juices leaking out of her and spreading out onto the table.

 

He pulls his gaze away from the mess and back to her. He offers her his hand and helps her down off the table. She stands in front of him, her legs shaking, and considering she just had three orgasms, he’s not surprised. She looks down his body, and with a sigh she pushes his pants down his legs. His pants hit the floor and she bends down in front of him, carefully licking her own juices off his thighs, and just like that he’s ready to start round two.

 

But not here.

 

Oliver puts his hands on her shoulders and takes a step away from her, shaking his head. She looks at him in confusion as she stands, and Oliver merely gestures at her legs. She looks down at herself and blushes just the slightest as she notices that she’s covered in a mixture of _them_. Oliver points silently at the table behind her, and she turns around, affording him a spectacular view of her ass. She lets out a quiet laugh when she spots the mess they’ve made of the table.

 

“Good thing it’s made of glass,” she muses. “Should be easy enough to clean.”

 

Oliver chuckles.

 

“Shower first,” he suggests. “Then cleanup.”

 

She nods, gazing off in the direction of the bathroom, and he’s grateful now more than ever that he thought to install showers in the lair, and lockers for everyone to store clean sets of clothes.

 

He reaches down and unzips her rumpled skirt, pulling in down her thighs, making sure his hands touch as much of her as possible on his way down. She steps out of it helpfully, and Oliver throws the skirt onto a clean part of the table. Then he bends down and takes off his shoes and socks, tossing them aside before stepping out of his pants and throwing them on top of her skirt, starting a pile. Her panties peak out of the back pocket of his pants.

 

Felicity looks back at him and grins. “You do plan on giving those back to me at some point, yes?” and Oliver just smirks at her and winks. He reaches out and grabs the hem of her shirt. She lifts her arms and he pulls it off of her, adding it to the pile.   


“Hey, that was _clean_ , Oliver,” and Oliver just shrugs as he unhooks her bra and adds it to the pile, too. Felicity shakes her head as he bends down to unstrap her heels. She lets him, stepping out of first one and then the other.

 

But then, instead of standing back up right away, Oliver kisses the back of her knee. Felicity shudders slightly, and Oliver holds her hips gently, keeping her still. She doesn’t protest, and so he kisses his way up her body, working his way up her thigh and over the curve of her ass. He sucks gently on one cheek and then the other, and she lets out a quiet moan. He kisses his way up her lower back, along her spine, and over her left shoulder.

 

He’s standing now, and his hands move slowly up her sides, grazing gently over her breasts and coming to rest on her shoulders. He turns her around slowly to face him, bending slightly as he kisses his way down her left arm and over her wrist, placing a soft kiss against the back of her hand. He glances briefly at her ring finger and thinks to himself, _Someday._

 

Oliver releases her hand gently and stands up straight. She smiles fondly at him as he stares into her eyes before bending down to kiss her lips. He caresses her lips with his tongue, asking for entrance, and she grants it. He strokes his tongue over hers, marveling at how he can taste both of them in her mouth.

 

She groans into his mouth and pulls away suddenly.

 

“Shower,” she orders him. “Now.”

 

“Yes, Ms. Smoak,” he answers playfully, and he smacks her ass lightly before grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the shower.

 

In the end, they somehow manage to get even dirtier before they finally get clean.

 

_…the end…_

**Author's Note:**

> It turns out that writing pure smut is an entirely different experience from writing plot. This was fun to write, but at the same time it was just totally WEIRD to write, especially when it came to getting as graphic as I did.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
